It was June. Everything was going great! The husband and I had just gone on vacation to Las Vegas. We had an absolute blast. My mood was stable. I drank one drink three times over dinner on different nights. We saw some awesome shows and we didn’t gamble one dime. It was the time of our lives. Having our first couples vacation without our children and to celebrate our 15th wedding anniversary. We were celebrating a little late, but who cares. We saved the money to treat ourselves to something special. Life couldn’t have been better.
Once I got home, I picked up my babies. They really aren’t babies anymore but I sure was missing my kids. I wanted them back home with me and to hug and kiss and squish them. Yes, my babies are older but I still really missed them. It was so much fun giving them their gifts we bought them and hanging out. I love my boys!
Then two days after we got home I had a bout with kidney stones. My mood was great. I was feeling “normal” for once and doing well. I started taking the prescribed Percocet for the pain. Before we go any farther, let me just announce that pain pills are downers and should only be used if absolutely necessary. However, I have only taken pain pills twice before and that was after I had two cesarean section births. And I didn’t take it long. But this time, it was different. I liked the way the pain pills made me feel and I was completely relaxed while taking them. So, I took them when I shouldn’t have several times to “feel good”. But……the inevitable started happening. I was on the down slide and I was going down fast. I couldn’t help it and I knew it was probably the downer pills contributing to the problem. I was scared! I was in utter despair and I didn’t know what to do.
I started having real, suicidal ideation and thoughts. I made a plan to kill myself and I was hearing voices. I was so far down there was nothing to look up to. And this all happened in three weeks’ time. It was scary as hell. So…I took myself to the local emergency room and asked to be admitted to their psychiatric ward to stay safe. I was worried about myself at this point and really needed a safety zone to get my stuff back together. However, they turned me away saying I wasn’t displaying enough symptoms to be admitted. I was talking upward, downward, sideways and even told them that if I went home and “did it” then they were responsible for turning me away if I succeeded. They still let me go home. Once home, I lost it. I went into our bedroom and starting throwing anything I could get my hands on at the time. I even broke some things that are precious to me. 🙁 Clearly, I was out of control and needed help. My poor husband was trying to deal with it and help me. But there was no success in that. I went to bed and just laid there until I fell asleep. It seemed like hours.
The next day I woke up so down in the pits. All I could think about was suicide and how to get the utter despair and pain gone for good. We took our son to get his cast on his arm then we went to visit some friends. They knew I wasn’t doing well and wondered later what was wrong. We got home and were in the house doing things for a bit. My husband knew I wasn’t well and tried to help me. The voices were getting louder. So, he thought if he took the boys out to wash the cars then I could have some alone time in the house. When he left outside the house, I snapped. I went into the kitchen and starting taking anything and everything I could get my hands on. The biggest, most lethal dose of things I took was Xanax. I went and laid down on the couch. I stayed there about half an hour and realized slightly what had just happened. In order to protect our boys I had a moment of being lucid and texted him and asked him to call 911. He did.
The ambulance came and all I remember is that they insisted I walk out to the ambulance. I was all off kilter and walking side ways. I was a mess. I don’t remember much after this except that I sat down on the medic’s seat instead of the stretcher. They put me on the stretcher and I was out. I remember them poking my chest so they wouldn’t “lose me”.
Once at the emergency room, I remember nothing. I only know from what my husband told me that they were monitoring my heart, respiratory status, blood pressure amongst a myriad of other things. My husband also told me they thought I was faking it and they were going to send me right to the local psychiatric ward. When he came back from getting dinner I was up in the hospital unconscious, supposedly sleeping off what I took. They put me in the Cardiac Care ward.
I lost two days off of my life that I don’t remember by doing this. I remember waking up and looking at the woman in the room. It was 6:30 and I thought it was morning but it was evening two days later. I felt sick and asked to call my husband. I had a catheter in, was in a Depends under garment and looked terrible. They took the catheter out and tried to get me up but I was very wobbly and unstable on my feet. I got up and did as they asked. They insisted I took a shower. I did but man that hospital bed was on my mind the whole time I was up. I had made myself very, very sick with all those pills.
I soon was drinking fluids by mouth then eating and trying to figure everything out. I had a “sitter” in my room for 24 hours a day for my safety because I was now a “suicide patient”. I spent five days in the regular hospital and ten days in our local psych unit.
I realize now that the pain pills and probably all the hoopla of vacation and the kidney stone event all contributed to this quick down-hill slide into a severe depression. I was in no way in “my right mind” when I did this. I was in utter despair and so much pain emotionally and mentally I couldn’t think. And to top it off, I had auditory hallucinations (voices) telling me to kill myself, too.
This situation is what it is, but I will not ever do this again. No matter how bad I feel at the time. I hurt my family, myself, my boys, my husband, and even our animals were going crazy when I wasn’t here in my home. However, I believe good can come out of bad situations. This was a horrible situation but if this story helps one person then it was all for good. I learned many lessons from this event and I am now doing better.
If you know of anybody who is thinking about suicide, talking about it, giving their prized possessions away, planning a funeral, making suicide plans or even becoming severely isolated and withdrawn, then an intervention needs to happen. These things must be taken seriously. Don’t worry about “not minding your own business”. This is somebody’s life you could be saving. My husband was doing everything to help me, but now we have a special plan if things were to get this way again. The thresh hold for my personal case at our local hospital has been lowered because I “looked fine” when I asked for help. If I go in then they have to admit me if I ask. But that is my case and a psychiatrist has to be involved for that to happen.
Some suicide prevention hotlines and numbers are:
National Hopeline Network
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline
Teen Suicide Hotline
Please, I beg you to reach out and ask for help. Don’t let the suicidal thoughts, ideations and all the “stuff” that goes with it overtake or overcome you. Get help before it is too late. It will save your life.